Little Scars
by pluviophile
Summary: They say it, the pain, gets better over time. They say it'll recede into almost nothingness and just leave a white, tiny scar. But my pain won't fade. I don't think I can live life without Augustus Waters... *first TFIOS fic, read and review*


**** ****The Fault In Our Stars**** along with the characters and plot belong to John Green. However, this story is mine, property of pluviophile 2013, and please do not take it without my permission.**

_Author's Note: This is my second time trying to write a __The Fault In Our Stars__ fanfic. This story takes place after Augustus's death and is basically Hazel's life afterwards. Tis the last day of the year 2013 asdfghjkl oh my gosh. So asdfghjkl. Try saying that out loud lol. Anyways, without further ado, please enjoy this story._

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They say it gets easier over time. They say the pain recedes over time. It kinda feels like when you fall off your bike and you have a scrape. The scrape turns into a scab and if you pick the scab it'll eventually turn into a scar. The scar will ebb away into a faint shadow of its former self, but it's always there.

_That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt._

And right indeed Augustus. I think of you everyday and no, it's not getting easier.

In fact, it's harder. It's hard to have to drag myself out of bed and wake up knowing you won't be there to swoop me into a hug or give me orange tulips anymore. Your absence is a constant thorn in my side. They say life goes on, but for me, I'm not so sure of that.

Augustus Waters I miss you with all my heart and soul.

Xxx

"Hazel, wake up." The sound of my mom's voice jolts me from my sleep, and I sit up, blinking. Both my parents stand at the foot of my bed, their eyes wide as saucers. I muster a teensy smile, but my mind is still clouded with sleep.

"What?"

"Good morning to you too," my dad says. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "Do you know what day it is?" he presses. I scrunch my nose as I try to think. Lately, everything's been all surreal. Every day is just another day for me. I don't bother to keep track of the dates anymore.

"Um, it's like, in December, right?"

"It's Christmas, Hazel!" my mom's voice is shrill, and realization dawns on me quickly. Whoops. How could I forget Christmas…?

"Happy Christmas," I say.

"_Merry _Christmas to you too, Hazel." My dad corrects me. He makes it as discreet as possible that he would prefer me to say 'merry Christmas' like the rest of my household. This debate over saying 'Merry Christmas' versus 'Happy Christmas' started December 1st of this year.

"Honestly, authorities. It's not that odd to say 'Happy Christmas' instead of 'Merry Christmas'. Frankly, I think it would be nicer to say 'Happy Christmas' instead because it's not like we say 'oh have a Merry Halloween or Merry Easter or even like, Merry Birthday'. To be fair, I think we as a whole family unit should say 'Happy Christmas'." I sit up in bed and fold my hands in my lap neatly staring up at my parents expectantly.

"Hazel, why are you always like this?" my mom sounds exasperated, not angry.

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like _this_." She waves her arms around as if to prove her point.

Her point is not proven.

We are a normal family on a normal Christmas morning. She is making a big deal of things, end of story.

"Ever since Augustus died…" she trails off as I stiffen, clenching my blanket in my fists. My dad puts a hand on her arm as if to silently tell her to stop. I turn away from both my parents as I feel the familiar heart ache I get every time his name is mentioned. I blink away the tears and struggle to swallow the rising lump in my throat before I look back at my mom, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ever since Gus died what…?" I ask quietly. Maybe if I talk quieter my voice won't break, and maybe I can keep the dam of emotions I have under control for just awhile longer. My mom's eyes are as round as an owl's before she shakes her head at me slowly as if she is in a trance.

"N-nothing," she stutters. _That's what I thought, _I say bitterly to myself. My dad clears his throat as if to break the tension. It doesn't work. The atmosphere is still clouded with grief and anger and the overall supposed joy of Christmas. My parents asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year, and my instantaneous response flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. I told them, 'I want Augustus back'. Of course, that didn't end well; it was a series of nonstop crying and comforting for the rest of the week.

"Come on, Hazel. Let's go downstairs so we can open presents and eat pancakes. They're your favorite." My mom rests a hand on my leg and gives it a supposedly reassuring squeeze. I feel a bit better and manage to nod at my expectant parents.

"Okay," I whisper. "I'll be out in a minute." They exchange glances, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "I swear I'll be in the family room, under the tree with you, eating pancakes in one minute." I press, my voice rising slightly. My mom and dad look a bit taken aback, and I feel a momentarily pang of guilt for snapping at them. It had been like this for the past couple months and all they have done was tolerate me and love me while all I've done is recede further and further into my shell and hating them. I knew it wasn't fair, but I couldn't help myself.

"Alright." My dad tugs my reluctant mom out of my room as their quiet chatter fades away. I let out a yawn before making my way to the door and closing it. I spin around and rest my back against it, sighing slightly before I eye my little tree that's perched on my window sill. It's green and has little Christmas lights on it. On the top of the tree where the star should have been, is a picture of Gus and me from when we went to Amsterdam. It's on the top of the tree because we are the stars. Cheesy I know, but grief can do a lot to one person. I make my way over to the tree at a painstakingly slow pace before I inhale loudly, pulling the cannula from my nose. I just want it to be me and him. Gus. I reach out with a shaky hand, my fingertips trailing over the picture briefly.

We look _happy. _His smile is contagious, spreading across his face. Gus was the sun. He radiated joy wherever he went. And me, the mousy girl besides him, tucked in the warmth of his body. There's a smile that is too big for my face and a happiness that I didn't know was possible to have. And for awhile, I believed I could be happy again. Not now though. Not now. I force a small smile on my own face.

"I love you Augustus. Merry Christmas," I whisper, blinking once to have a single tear fall down my face.

I swear I can hear his clarion voice around me whispering back.

_Merry Christmas, Hazel Grace…_

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_Author's Note: Whoops, sorry for putting you all through that XD haha. If you don't know me, I'm an angsty teenager, so writing this kinda stuff comes easily to me. So if you skipped my author's note on the top and you're curious about what this story is about, go back and read the author's note please. Oh, and do tell me what you thought of it. Perhaps leave me a review and follow and favorite? :-)_


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